


When Talking Just Won't Cut It

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Exhibitionism, M/M, but he dumb, when your flirting game on point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-15 02:18:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14781764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: He's been flirting with Tobirama for months now but the idiot just doesn't seem to get it. Frustrated, Madara takes things in to his own hands. Literally.





	When Talking Just Won't Cut It

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god this was written for a tumblr prompt and not at all inspired by "Love Done Right". I swear.

“I believe that concludes everything,” Tobirama murmured half to himself, his eyes sweeping through the folder open in his hands one last time. “Unless you had something else you wished to discuss?”

“So many things I would love to…discuss with you.” Madara lifted both of his eyebrows suggestively. Were it anyone else in the room they would have taken the obvious hint that he meant that in a very non-conversational way. However, since this was Tobirama, the single most oblivious man the Senju clan had ever produced, all he did was raise his eyebrows in return like he was expecting an actual subject to talk about.

“Go on then?”

“Ugh, never mind.” Madara lowered his eyebrows and let his expression fall in to a pout.

Tobirama gave him an irritated look but said nothing while he packed up his papers, leaving without another word. Madara waited until he was alone in the room to sigh in irritation. He’d seduced his fair share of people before without problem so how was it possible that he was having this much trouble getting the message through Tobirama’s brain now? Wasn’t the man supposed to be some kind of genius?

Even worse was trying to convey that he would be interested in something more than just a few quick rolls between the sheets. Just having the feelings was embarrassing enough without constantly failing at trying to communicate them to someone who gave him less than zero response. Madara was certain that if Tobirama realized he was being hit on and didn’t like it he would make his opinions on that known. Instead he reacted to every advance with mild confusion and that was arguably more irritating because Madara had been gradually using less and less subtle invitations yet none of them were getting through to their target.

At this point he really only had two different options left. He could either trap the man in a very frank conversation which would mortify the both of them and likely put Madara off of _feelings_ for the rest of his life – or he could shove the man against the wall and try to physically explain what words had failed to. Both options seemed a little farfetched yet Madara couldn’t think of anything else that would get his point across without Tobirama misunderstanding him for perhaps the eightieth time. Desperate times call for desperate measures, as they say, and Madara wasn’t sure how many more times he could put himself out there before giving up and resigning himself to simply wanting from afar. At least if he were rejected he would know to move on.

Slowly sitting up behind his desk, Madara released a frustrated sigh and picked up the stack of reports he had pulled out for their meeting. There was little point in beating himself up over something he couldn’t control so for now he resolved to put the issue out of his head until he had a bit of time to himself. He could wrack his brain for solutions when he wasn’t supposed to be concentrating on village matters.

“Madara?”

His fingers twitched, crinkling the papers in his surprise. Madara looked up with a mildly irritated look to see Izuna peering at him around the doorframe. How long had he been sitting there staring off in to space?

“What?” he growled. His brother huffed at him.

“Don’t get snippy with me, I haven’t done anything to you today. Yet. Did you forget about the hearing this afternoon? It starts in like ten minutes and you usually beat everyone there so you have time to ogle at Tobirama.”

“Shit!” Madara flew out of his chair, zipping across the room to snatch his outer robe off the coat hook in the corner and sloppily throwing in on. He had indeed forgotten there was a hearing today. “I do _not_ ogle him, don’t be crass.”

Izuna shrugged as he stepped back to allow his sibling out in to the hall. “Stare intensely with visible sexual intent, then. Does that sound better? No shut up; I like it better anyway. Much more accurate.”

They fell in to step together despite Madara’s refusal to speak to the younger man further after such an insult. Just because it was embarrassingly true didn’t mean it needed to be said out loud. How was it that everyone else in the village knew about his stupid crush yet the smartest man among them, the very object of his affections, remained entirely ignorant?

He could distinctly remember Hashirama promising him that life would get much easier if they built a village together. Evidently that was a big fat lie. The two of them were going to have a talk about false promises sometime, followed quickly by a discussion about how much vacation time he was owed.

Regardless of his obvious disdain for conversation at the moment, Izuna chattered away undeterred while they made their way through the tower towards the conference rooms. His brother was right about one thing: usually he made sure to arrive early to these things, although he generally cited the excuse of going over the itinerary one last time or looking over his notes if he were expected to speak at any point. The fact that Tobirama also usually came early was a mere happy coincidence.

And he was sticking to that story.

Today he was forced to catch himself up with a quick mental review of what the hearing was supposed to be for. As a member of the village council as well as a clan Head it was his duty to sit in on these boring little meetings and pass judgment on people who had broken some small bylaw or another. He was fairly sure today they would be listening to charges against some business owner whose offense was both stupid and boring, something to do with zoning laws and setting up his tanner’s shop too close to a residential area. It wasn’t really anything that required full council attendance but Hashirama insisted that each defendant be given the same fair treatment and thus they all spent a lot of boring afternoons presiding over cases that the idiot could have judged for himself.

When they entered the room Madara was irritated to discover that they were the last to arrive and only two seats were left open. Almost before he could process who was where Izuna had slid in to the closest one, leaving him with no choice but to sit next to none other than Tobirama, who eyed him speculatively as he slid in to his chair and then seemingly dismissed him. Madara fumed quietly and leaned back in his seat.

“Now that everyone’s here, no point in wasting time. Shall we get started?” Hashirama swept his grin around the room before waving a hand at a sour looking man standing with his arms crossed at the head of the room. “Miyamoto-san, I’m sure you’re aware why you have been called here today. Please present your remarks.”

Almost immediately half of the room tuned out, their eyes glazing over and their heads drifting up in to the clouds. Sitting in the corner on the far side of the room from where everyone was at least pretending to direct their gazes, Madara’s petulant expression went entirely unnoticed.

Bored already, he let his eyes drift sideways to surreptitiously inspect the man next to him. Tobirama had a great poker face at the best of times so it was hard to tell whether he too had zoned out or if he was one of the few actually paying attention. Either way he didn’t seem to notice Madara studying the shape of his jaw or the way his hair shadowed his eyes just so to turn them such a pretty shade of red. He truly was a very attractive man. If only Madara could get his hands on all that china-pale skin, trace every one of those nearly indiscernible freckles.

Slinking even lower in his seat, Madara narrowed his eyes as a vicious grin spread across his face. Why _shouldn’t_ he get a hand on that body? Had he not just been thinking about how this idiot was so clueless that it would take pinning him to the wall to get the point across? Pinning him in his seat would work just as well.

Knowing full well that this might all end in a great deal of violence, Madara was just irritated enough from his long list of failed attempts at flirting to give it a go anyway. The way he saw it he had nothing to lose but a few fingers and the last shreds of his admittedly tarnished dignity. If nothing else he would at least get an answer once and for all – and some form of entertainment no matter which way this went.

Checking to make sure no one was looking in their direction – no one was, they had at least all turned their heads in the proper direction – Madara very carefully reached his hand out underneath the table until his fingers were just brushing up against Tobirama’s leg. From the corner of his eye he watched the man twitch, looking over at him in question, but he simply allowed his fingers to hang loosely as though he hadn’t realized what it was they were touching. Tobirama went through an obvious internal debate over whether or not to mention it before subsiding with a barely noticeable shrug and returning his gaze to the boring man jabbering on about his tanning business.

Madara waited perhaps a full minute before shifting sideways as though trying to find a more comfortable position in his chair, _incidentally_ allowing his fingers to slide over the top of Tobirama’s thigh. He felt the muscles tense beneath him and watched in his peripherals as Tobirama whipped his head around to stare at him with wide eyes but still pretended not to notice, even going so far as to drum his fingers distractedly on the man’s leg.

Watching the obvious internal warfare going on inside the man’s brain was a treat Madara would not soon forget. Not only was it funny as all hell, it was also quite telling. The fact that he wasn’t immediately breaking bones and hissing in disgust spoke to a certain willingness Madara had been hoping to confirm for quite some time now.

His blood singing in his veins with triumphant satisfaction, Madara allowed himself the tiniest of smirks. It was obvious that Tobirama had seen his expression by the way the leg under his hand immediately tensed again but Madara gave him no time to say anything, sliding his hand up and cupping Tobirama through the material of his typical loose pants. He could feel the cock in his sudden grip twitch with interest even as the rest of Tobirama’s body jerked in surprise.

“ _Hrrrkk_!”

One or two heads lazily turned to inspect the source of the strangled sound only to turn away disinterestedly when Tobirama successfully passed it off as a stifled sneeze. The civilian at the other side of the room didn’t so much as pause in his droning.

Madara gave his hand an experimental squeeze, enjoying the way Tobirama convulsed very gently in response. When he peeked over, red eyes were glaring at him with a heady combination of confusion and sudden lust. He basked in it. Rolling his fingers earned him another convulsion and the snap of a hand around his wrist. Most interestingly, however, no movement was made to stop him from what he was doing. In fact, the hand below the table pulled him closer while above it Tobirama bit his lower lip and flushed a delicate shade of red.

Conversations could come later about whether this meant anything for them or if Tobirama was just enjoying an unexpected pandering to a possible exhibition kink. Either way Madara very much planned to enjoy himself as much as he could. Although the hand on his wrist continued to hold him tightly it did nothing to stall his movements as he traced his fingers around the shape of the bulge growing beneath them and reached for the ties holding his companion’s pants shut. Tobirama’s teeth clamped tightly down on his lower lip when they fell open, his cock springing free as though begging for more attention – attention Madara was only too willing to give.

Neither one of them were paying the slightest attention to the world around them and yet they were both hyper aware of it, ears straining for a break in vocal patterns which would suggest their activities had been spotted, eyes darting around the room before returning to staring each other down with gazes that burned. Tobirama was making a visible effort to control his breathing so as not to draw attention to them and Madara wondered how no one could hear his heart thundering against his chest like a drum.

At the first touch of warmth against his bare skin Tobirama shivered, eyes falling shut briefly. Madara took his time winding his fingers around the steel-hard shaft waiting so eagerly for him, his thumb making soothing strokes up and down just to enjoy the feeling of soft skin over hard flesh. Once his grip was settled he gave a single slow stroke upwards with a grip so gentle it could be called nothing but a tease. Tobirama’s eyes fluttered again before determinedly locking on to his own and Madara knew a promise when he saw one. Whether that promise was for reciprocation or for a swift death once this was all over seemed vastly unimportant at the moment. He was much too focused on the thrill and the triumph of the moment; it would be fairly difficult to miss his point this time.

Despite the vague plans forming in his head to drag this out for as long as possible, Madara found his will broken early by the faint whimper which slipped from Tobirama’s lips as his palm slid across the tip of the man’s cock. All of his ideas about teasing fell away with a tight grip and a purposeful stroke which had Tobirama folding in his chair, covering the movement by placing his free arm on the table to make it seem deliberate. His other hand released Madara’s wrist only to cover his fingers and interlock them together, holding him there yet allowing him to determine their movements still.

Madara licked his lips, wishing more than anything that he could see what was going on beneath the table. He wanted to see the precum he could feel gathering, the involuntary twitches inside his grasp; he wanted to spread Tobirama out across the table and watch him writhe, hear what unfettered sounds he could be making. Just the very thought of it nearly made him gasp but instead he only moved their dual grip faster.

It was easy to tell in the moments just before that Tobirama was nearing the edge. Madara could see it in the tightening around his eyes, the way they fluttered while desperately trying to stay open, the slackening of his jaw even as the tendons in his neck stood out with the effort of staying quiet and still. Madara’s gaze flickered once more around the room to confirm they were still unnoticed before then flicking his thumb over the head of the cock in his grip.

This time Tobirama truly did fold, his forehead touching the arm which had braced him above the table and his one visible hand fisting tightly. As the only one with a side view of his face Madara was the only one treated to the vision of his mouth opening in a silent scream while just out of sight his cock pulsed with streams of hot cum, coating their entwined fingers and very likely making a mess of his clothing as well – not that he seemed to care at the moment. His chest heaved and his body shook and all of it happened silently so as not to draw attention.

By the time he slumped and subsided in to gentle trembling Madara was positively glowing with pride. Making peace with his mortal enemies and building an entire village hadn’t felt as good as getting Tobirama off under a table while an entire room full of people failed to notice the nirvana being discovered right underneath their noses. He was so high on his accomplishment he was dangerously close to orgasm himself and yet, strangely, felt no urgency to demand reciprocation. Just this was good.

Both of them jumped when the background drone which had covered their little adventure was interrupted by a new voice.

“We thank you for your remarks, Miyamoto-san. I believe you have prepared a rebuttal, Hyuga-san, as it was a member of your clan who brought this situation to our attention.” Somehow still cheerful and upbeat after listening to so much drivel, Hashirama beamed at the man seated directly across from him.

The head of the Hyuga clan harrumphed and straightened the papers he had gathered in front of him, pale lavender eyes narrowed angrily at the civilian responsible for putting half the room to sleep. Some of the others came awake at the change in noise level while Madara noticed Tobirama trying very hard to sink down through the floor, probably extremely aware of the wetness in his lap. Their hands were both still gripped around his softening length and Madara wondered if he were still too high on release to notice or if he was reflexively shielding himself even where no eyes could see him.

A shift and a very gentle squeeze presented a hidden third option which he hadn’t even considered: that Tobirama was simply holding his hand still. Madara softly squeezed back and was rewarded when Tobirama’s eyes peeked out from where his face was still tucked in to the crook of his arm, regarding him with the kind of satiated contentedness he would have loved to see just before they fell asleep in a bed somewhere. As out of place as that expression was here in a conference room he still considered himself lucky to have seen it.

Reluctant as he was to break their sticky embrace, Madara carefully extracted his hand with only the best of intentions. He hadn’t exactly prepared for this beforehand on purpose but he did happen to have a few handkerchiefs hidden away in the sleeve of his robes which he was certain would be much appreciated at the moment. As he’d thought, Tobirama gave him a startled yet thankful look before snatching the offered cloths and tucking them away out of sight to clean himself up as best he could. Madara skootched even farther down in his chair, tilting his head just so to try and get an eyeful of what he had wrought.

He had to look away as soon as he caught a single glimpse, afraid he might start cackling smugly.

It was a bit hard to tell since Tobirama’s skin was already so white but he was absolutely _coated_ in his own release, thick liquid spread all around his groin and already drying in to a tacky mess. Madara was amused to note that if not for the long hem of the man’s kimono shirt the entire world would have been witness to the massive white stain now present on those dark black pants as soon as he stood up

He had done that. His own hand had been the one to pleasure Tobirama well enough to bring him to peak in the midst of a room filled with stuffy clan heads and coat him in his own essence. Madara was fairly certain that the fastidious Tobirama had never been quite such a mess in public before and for a moment he mourned the fact that he would never be able to brag about this to anyone. At least, not if he wanted even the slightest chance to do so again.

“Very succinct, Hyuga-san,” Hashirama’s voice boomed throughout the room, startling both of them in to paying attention again. Tobirama froze with a hand down his pants and lifted his head to blink around the room at the other council members while Madara wondered if he’d ever seen the man hold himself so awkwardly in all the years they had known each other.

“Yes, well.” The Head of the Hyuga clan harrumphed once more. “ _Some_ of us don’t need to waste so many words just to get our point across.”

“Some of us do,” Madara mumbled under his breath. Then he smirked when Tobirama gave him a narrow-eyed look.

“Thank you both for presenting your views. If no one has anything else to add? No? Then let us vote between the two courses of action proposed. A show of hands for Miyamoto-san’s proposal. And now for Hyuga-san’s proposal.”

Perfectly unaware of what either of the proposal’s had entailed, both Madara and Tobirama lifted their unsullied hands with what appeared to be the majority vote. Madara was pretty sure he’d never seen anything as funny as Senju Tobirama with one hand up voting on a council hearing and the other down his pants trying to wipe away a pool of his own spunk.

The civilian tanner certainly didn’t look happy to have the council vote against him but said nothing about it while he was still in a room filled with powerful shinobi. Hashirama either didn’t notice his ire or didn’t care as he cheerfully bulldozed onwards to make his closing statements.

As soon as it sunk in that the meeting appeared to be over and he would be expected to stand up and shake hands with people, panic very clearly set in to Tobirama’s mind. His hand worked frantically to mop up what he could, then he shoved his other arm beneath the table so he could stuff himself back inside his trousers and refasten them. Madara did his best to muffle his urge to snicker. At least he could hide his own soiled hand inside one sleeve while he shook hands with the clean one but Tobirama would have to shake hands with anyone who demanded the formality knowing that the appendage still smelled faintly of his own sperm.

Madara made a good effort to project the same grumpy aura which usually prevented many from approaching him as they all rose from the table, positioning himself close to Tobirama in the hopes that it would work to shield him as well. Unfortunately it was much harder than he anticipated to appear angry when all he truly felt was unbearably smug. There wasn’t much he could imagine which would improve upon his mood at the moment and it was rather hard to combat the need to shove that in the face of every idiot passing him by on their way out the door. Or at least it was until Hashirama bounced over to jabber on about how well the meeting had gone and how he had implemented all those tips his wife had given him on how to present himself in a more professional manner. Madara was surprised to discover that looking his best friend in the eye was a bit difficult while his palm was still tingling with the sensory memory of stroking Tobirama’s cock.

Eventually he was forced to cut his friend off to preserve his own sanity.

“That’s great and all,” he cut in, “but I need to speak with Tobirama.”

“Oh. Again? Didn’t you guys just have a meeting scheduled right before the hearing?”

“Yes and it appears that we missed a few key points,” Tobirama spoke up. His eyes were glaring straight ahead, refusing the look at either of them.

“Are you okay, brother? You put your head down during the meeting and you look sort of flushed. Maybe you guys should talk later because you look like you might be getting sick.” Hashirama raised a hand towards his brother’s forehead and Tobirama reeled back from the touch.

Ignoring his sibling’s confusion, he snapped, “I’m fine! Now if you would _excuse us_!”

Madara wasn’t even given the time to wave goodbye before Tobirama reached out to snatch a handful of his sleeve and activate hiraishin. The two of them were pulled across the village in an instant, reappearing in a bedroom Madara had never seen before but easily deduced the owner of.

Not that he really had much time to inspect it as the moment they were alone Tobirama had shoved him up against a wall and taken his mouth in a desperate kiss.

Groaning in to the lips working against his own, Madara wound both arms around Tobirama’s waist and held him as tightly as he dared. Most of his fantasies were decidedly gentler than this – _most_ – but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. This was definitely good too. Hands began to frantically pull on his clothing and that was also good, not at all unwelcome.

“You fucking _shithead_ ,” Tobirama snarled against his mouth, diverting course to sink sharp teeth in to his neck. Madara arched with a startled gasp.

“Me?” he asked. The innocent tone he was trying for was only mostly ruined by the sudden breathlessness.

“How in the fuck did you know about that?”

“About what?”

Tobirama bit his throat again, harder this time, and Madara released a startled moan. “My preference for exhibitionism.”

“Lucky guess,” Madara breathed. “You weren’t picking up on any other hint and honestly it was more of a last ditch attention grab than an educated guess at preferences.”

He whined when Tobirama pulled away, sobering as he noticed the look on confusion he was getting. Rolling his eyes, Madara pulled the man back in to a much slower, more deliberate kiss and walked them both towards the bed perpendicular to the wall they had been molesting. He managed to get Tobirama on his back and settle himself between the younger man’s legs before being pushed away to be given another confused look.

“What hints?”

“I’ve been hitting on you for months,” Madara deadpanned. His partner blinked rapidly.

“Ah. Well. It appears I’ve wasted a great deal of both our time.”

“Mm.” He didn’t bother to deny that.

Tobirama frowned briefly before his expression smoothed out in to a wicked grin. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

After putting in so much effort just to get here Madara agreed that it was only fair.


End file.
